Penn Wooding - My Story....

I was born in London in 1969. My Father was in the R.A.F. so we spent the first three years of my life living in various parts of the world. My father left the Air Force and we settled down in Luton and lived in a three-storey town house in St Josephs Close Luton. It was actually a great place to grow up as a young child, there were lots of other children around my age living in the close so I tended to spend most of the time outside with the other kids. It certainly wasn't like today, we didn't have computers or game consoles, and children's television was nothing like it is today.

At the age of five my parents decided that I should go to a private school. It was called Broadmead which in hindsight it sounds rather like a borstal. I can't say I have any fond memories of this school and I certainly did not like it there.

I think I was five when I left Broadmead. I get the impression that paying money for a private school was a waste of money. I then started at the local primary school called Norton Road which was about a mile up the road.

Mr Woods was the headmaster. To a youngster I suppose he seemed ancient, however looking back, I Imagine he was probably in his 50s. He always used to take assembly and boy did he have a great stammer, Ronnie Barker would have been impressed. I always remember sitting on the floor in assembly looking up at this man talking. My God did he did have a lot of fillings. He always used to wear those elasticated things that hold your shirt sleeves up. Funny what sort of things you remember.

Holidays were normally spent in Devon. My Grandparents had lived in Paignton for many years . They owned a hotel, then a guesthouse and then retired to various properties around the town. My dad's sister lived here in Brixham which is only 5 miles from Paignton. She also had two children, Matt and Nick. Nick is the same age as me, and Matt a couple of years younger. This photograph taken in 72/73 is of me (in white) and my cousin Nick. Here we are on Goodrington Beach having a really good laugh by the look of it. Can't remember what I found so amusing. By the look of those holes, maybe I had just force-fed my cousin a big lugworm

I remember when skateboards first became popular over here. Ian Straughan was the first person in the vicinity to have a skateboard. Actually it was the wheels off a pair of old rollerskates bolted onto a piece of wood. It didn't matter, this young lad was good, I can always remember him doing a handstand going down the path. I eventually got my skateboard on Christmas day. It was called The Land Surfer of California and it was red. Couldn't use it for the first few days because there was ice everywhere. I wasn't really much good on it after then anyway. In fact, I fell off it one day and broke my thumb. Bloody thing hurt for years after then.

I joined the Luton and Vauxhall swimming club in 1980 and would get up three days a week at half past five in the morning and cycle on my own about 3 miles to the swimming pool. Can't quite see parents letting their children do that these days.

In 1980, I left Norton Road primary School and went to Denbigh high. Apparently by all accounts it's spot the white man there now these days. Anyway, this was another school I couldn't stand. There was a horrible sports teacher who didn't seem to be nice to anyone. He was a short little man with bright ginger hair and a ginger beard. In fact, he looked a little bit like Mark O'Shea off O'Shea's of big adventures which is broadcast on sky television.

So, in 1981, we moved down to Paignton in South Devon so we could be closer to our family. Whilst my Mum ran our corner shop in the St Michaels area of the town, my Dad commuted back and fourth to Luton where he continued to work as a lecturer at a college. I started going to the local secondary school Paignton community college. There isn't really much to say, not a lot happened in the four years I attended this school. Actually, this is where I met my best mate Gary. We were actually prancing around as skinheads scaring the hell out of little old ladies no doubt. We did get up to some mischief and unfortunately for you, I am not going to spill the beans on any of it.

In 1985 I finally left Paignton Community College. Four years at one school seems so long when you are young. I had decided that I wanted to get into the fishing industry so had enrolled at Falmouth fisheries College.

The few months I spent in Falmouth will remain with me for the rest of my life. I was only 16 at the time and had always lived at home with my parents, I hadn't really spent any time away from home apart from a couple of holidays. Moving down to Falmouth to live so far away from my parents was both exhilarating, and rather scary at the same time. I remember going down on a very hot day in June 1985. It was absolutely boiling, up in the 30s. We spent a really nice day having a look around Falmouth until it was time for me to be dropped off at my digs. I would be staying with a middle-aged couple who took in students every year. I was sharing a room with a lad called Mark who was the same age as me, he was also going to be studying at the same college. After my parents left I was free! No more nagging, no more arguing, it was brilliant. Mark and I were off into Falmouth to do a bit of exploring. I think the first port of call was the pub to buy a packet of fags. Yes I know smoking is a stupid game. We all started off doing it because we thought it looked cool and them before we knew where we were, we were hooked and couldn't give up.


Falmouth is located on the south coast of Cornwall, approximately 100 miles from Brixham. It is a delightful little town with lots of really good pubs. Should I really be saying this since I was only 16? Of course, I only used to drink orange juice, YEAH RIGHT! the college we would be attending was one of those very old Victorian schools that was made of really thick granite. Lessons consisted of seamanship, learning how to mend and make nets, splicing rope and wire and loads more I'm sure. It wasn't quite like being at school, it was much more relaxed, I absolutely loved it, I was never really that keen on school, all those teachers shouting at you, who do they think they are? Our main teacher was an old sea dog called Mr Pender. A real true Cornishman with a very strong Cornish accent. I suppose he was in his late 50s, he seemed so much older at the time but then again we were only 16, anybody above 25 was old. He was once a skipper on a Cornish trawler so was an extremely good teacher.

Since I was pretty keen on fishing, I took my fishing tackle down with me. I decided that I was going to try and catch one of these huge legendary conger eels that were supposed to frequent Falmouth docks. The fact that nobody was allowed inside the docks didn't cross my mind. So I decided on a suitable evening and went out and bought half a dozen herring that I was going to use for bait. I brought them back and left them In the outside toilet in a bag. When I went back to get them I suspected that something was not quite as it should be and I certainly wasn't wrong. Somebody, or something had been showing an interest in my herring. In fact, my half a dozen herring had suddenly become two herring. Let's just say that the house cat had a great big grin on his face and extremely fishy breath. Anyway, with my two herring I set off on a very dark evening and arrived at the wall overlooking the docks. Over I hopped and proceeded to walk down this great big hill. The fact that I didn't know where I was was rather ironic. In the end, I found myself at the docks, God knows how I got there in the dark. I set up for my fishing tackle and crept onto the dockside and cast a line. Well, I sat there, and I sat there for a little longer and absolutely nothing happened. Maybe these huge conger decided that herring wasn't on the menu that evening. After a while, nerves got the better of me, I saw a little bit of movement across the way and didn't really want to spend the night in a cell so I decided it was probably a good idea to cut my losses and make a hasty exit. For some reason, I found myself walking back a different route that took me through an area that was obviously a bit of a dumping ground. It was very dark, and extremely spooky and I was completely on my own. I then encountered all these little huts that were obviously used for storage. Most of them didn't have a door on the front but you couldn't really see into them because it was so dark. I then shone a torch into one of the huts and my God I nearly had a heart attack. In the middle of the hut was an old rocking chair, and to my horror, sitting in the rocking chair....................was a huge sack. Well that did it for me, I was out of there pretty smartish, I honestly thought I'd seen the ghost of an old man. I ran and I ran and I ran. I have never been so scared in my life, my heart was almost jumping out of my chest. It goes without saying I never went back again.

I spent around three months in Falmouth before moving back to Brixham where I was now working on the "Sally Lou", a 30 foot crabber. While I was at college, my family had sold the house in Paignton and moved away. luckily, I knew where they had moved to, it was Brixham actually which was very convenient since I was now working there.

I have to say that crab fishing is probably the most boring job in the world. Picking up heavy crab pots when you can't feel your fingers is bloody awful. This is why by the time December came along, I was sick of it and I found myself a job on a scallop trawler. This was definitely my vocation, I absolutely loved it. Okay, it wasn't any warmer, it was just more exciting, more varied, not as boring as catching just crabs every day. Most people would think that spending two weeks at sea cramped together with five smelly blokes not particularly an appealing idea, well I just took to it, it was a really good laugh, even if it was bloody freezing and wet outside a lot of the time.

Clive Wills, the skipper of Linquenda decided that a refit was in order. This would take quite a few weeks so we could either not work, or try and find another job for the time being. I woke up on Sunday the 18th of May and decided that I would go looking for another job. Before I did that, I would take my two dogs for a walk at Berry head. That is something I now regret and I will do for the rest of my life. On the way home from Berry head I bumped into a few friends and they accompanied me on my walk home. We found ourselves standing next Shoalstone Swimming Pool chatting and having a laugh. I don't know who it was but one of us made a suggestion that we go for a dip since there was water in the swimming pool. John Boyce jumped in and I immediately dove over his head. The next thing I remember was floating face down in the water not being able to move a muscle in my body apart from my head. I hadn't a clue what has happens, all I knew was, if something wasn't done quickly, I was going to be a goner. I started shaking my head vigorously trying to attract attention. It seemed like a long time, it probably wasn't much more than a minute. In that minute, a few thoughts went through my head. The one memory that I will never forget until my dying day is "God, how have I got myself in this position Penn, prepare yourself for death. I never thought this would happen to me, not now, not so soon" . And that is the last thing I remember before waking up in hospital.

I certainly had drowned and my friends eventually got me out of the pool. Call it what you want, a miracle, or just plain old coincidence, but two trained life savers were walking past at that exact moment. I owe my life to Pearl and Barry Savage

was taken to the intensive care unit of Torbay Hospital where I suppose they did all sorts of tests and x-rays on me. They diagnosed a spinal cord injury. I had suffered serious trauma to the C5/6, although I didn't know it at the time. My first recollection of being in the intensive care unit was when my cousin Nick came to visit me. I can't remember too much about it because I was so drugged up. I was on a ventilator to help with my breathing. I do remember asking Nick to have a look to see if I have any clothes on. To my horror, he told me I was completely naked. That is one thing I remember so well. Little did I know that that was something that I would experience a lot more of.

When I first arrived at the spinal unit, I was drugged up on morphine. I don't think I can remember the first three days. I do recall being woken up every now and then to have a drink but being saved out of it, all I wanted to do was to get back to sleep again.

When I did finally come around and was aware of my surroundings I started to wonder just what I had got myself into. It was a very frightening experience, I didn't really know what had happened to me, I couldn't understand why I wasn't able to move. As far as I was concerned, I would be in there for a few days, and then I'd be walking out as if nothing had happened. Little did I know what was ahead of me. I spent the next six weeks in bed with ten pounds of weight attached to my head. I had a clamp screwed into either side of my head. The weights were to pull the vertebrae apart and help the break mend. I wasn't able to do much whilst in bed, I had a television behind me with a mirror above my head so I could see it. it was very weird watching the television again after I had got up. I had got used to watching television programmes through a mirror, once I was up, everything looked very strange the correct way around. The food in the hospital wasn't too bad, although eating it was a tricky task to begin with. To get an idea of what it was like, lay flat on your back and get someone to feed you. You will know exactly what I am talking about. I am quite surprised I didn't choke to death in those weeks of lying flat on my back. Also, trying to drink pea soup through a straw is certainly a challenge. I had plenty of people coming to see me which was really nice, although quite tiring at times. I think I must have fallen asleep on quite a few occasions whilst having people sitting at my bedside.

After the six weeks was up, it was time to start getting up. It was horrible at first, I felt sick, dizzy and totally helpless. Even sitting up for half an hour would mean a good two or three hours sleep once back in bed. It took quite a while before I was able to sit up all day, and when they finally took the collar of, boy did my neck ache for a while.


Daily life in a spinal unit was almost like being back at school, only the lessons were different. Instead of learning my five times table, I was having to master the art of picking a cup up again. All those things that I used to take for granted, were now mountains to climb over.

Because I spent so long in hospital, I looked upon it as a sort of home. I felt safe there, I really didn't want to leave. Obviously, the time came for me to return home. Ironically, there was a Cheshire Home here in Brixham. There was a room available, so I moved in. It didn't take very long for me to get settled in and get to know everybody. The atmosphere in the Cheshire Home was brilliant, we all got on and had a really good laugh. I was only a mile from home so my family were able to visit with no problem at all. We each had our own room and could come and go as we please. One of the good things that I remember is the staff participation with the residents. They weren't there just as carers, they were also friends and occasionally a little more (I'd better not go down that road). The Cheshire home also had a policy of employing young people from abroad. It was more a case of volunteer work really, nevertheless there was never a short supply of young gorgeous girls from Denmark (remember I was only 18 then!)


On Christmas Eve 1987 I finally moved out of the Cheshire home and moved back in with my parents. We had had extensive building work done and I now had my own little pad at the back of the house. It didn't take me long for me to settle in to yet another home. I would still visit the Cheshire home every day so at least I wasn't stuck indoors all the time.


In 1990 I bought myself a CB radio. It was a very good way of making friends, if I wanted someone to know I was disabled, I would tell them. Once you got to know someone, the disability wasn't an issue when you eventually met him or her. I made lots of friends using this means of communication. I would often lay in bed talking on the radio until three o'clock in the morning. Not only did I make friends here in the United Kingdom, I also made friends abroad. I am still very good friends with Remeck who lives in Poland. We started talking back in 1990 and we still talk now, but on the computer. A lot of people have now passed away which is very sad because the early to mid 90s were so much fun on the radio. I absolutely loved it, I spent nearly all my spare time ratchet jawing. The back of our house looked like transmitting station, there were so many aerials everywhere.

In 1992 I won my legal action against the local council. We successfully proved that the swimming pool had been left in a dangerous state. Now I had my compensation I was able to plan further ahead. The first thing I did was to order a new vehicle that I could drive myself. I decided on a Chrysler Plymouth Voyager which was going to be ordered through a company here in the United Kingdom and imported from the United States. The second thing that I bought was and new house. I wasn't yet ready to move so the house would stand empty for three years. I received my vehicle but due to complications it would be a number of years before I go that myself.

In 1994 I decided that come what may I was going to drive my vehicle. So I approached a company in Hemel Hempstead who specialized in adapting vehicles for disabled drivers. I had some very expensive joystick steering fitted to the vehicle and that made all the difference, I was now able to drive my car which was absolutely fantastic. I passed my driving test on May 1, 1995... first time which I was pretty chuffed about. Being able to get out of Brixham independently without help was just a fantastic feeling.

Also in 1995 I gained my amateur radio license and became G0VQY. This gave me a lot more privileges using radio equipment, many more frequencies, lots more power [as in wattage], the chance to talk to people quite easily all around the World, Australia, USA, India, Russia, just about anywhere in the world where there is another person with a radio doing the same thing as me. Amateur radio opened up a whole new world for me and I made many more friends.

After living in a flat on the back of my parents house since 1987 I moved into a bungalow in 1995 and started living totally independently which was fantastic. As long as you've got a good team of carers than any disabled person can live independently, I would highly recommend it. There's something about making your own cup of tea that is quite satisfying when someone's been doing for you before.

In 1999 I entered into a relationship with one of my carers and we started living together a year later in my bungalow. There really isn't much to say from here, so roll the clock forward to the end 2004....

For most of 2004 I felt pretty ill. I really wasn't sure what was wrong. On numerous occasions I would spend two or three days in bed unable to get up. The Thursday after Christmas 2004, a few days after the tsunami my carer discovered a rather large hole in my backside. I had absolutely no idea this had been going on. There was a really bad infection inside me which accounted for all the illness throughout the year. After some strong antibiotics I managed to get rid of the infection and started to feel normal again. Unfortunately I was now bedridden unable to get up at all. The days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and I was stuck in bed. Summertime came along as did the good weather which made staying in bed so much harder. I finally started getting up in a 2006 and thankfully didn't have a repeat of the same problem

2006 saw the relationship between Chrissy and myself come to an end. However, even though all the love and romance was long gone, our strong friendship still remained and still does. In fact she is actually one of my carers nowadays.

Once again there isn't really much to talk about between 2006 and 2008 so again will roll forward to October 2008. I had not been feeling particularly well for a few days and on the Saturday in October, that's when it all started. For most of the day I was terribly thirsty and was feeling worst as the minutes ticked away. Chrissy just so happened to be coming round in the evening because we were going out. I can't remember my exact words but I was literally dying when she came through the door and I just told her to get me to the hospital somehow, some way, but bloody quickly. I don't think I have been in casualty for more than one hour before I was literally dead, and  I mean that litterly. I spent the next three weeks in intensive care fighting a very serious blood infection called sepsis. The doctors didn't really hold much hope for me but for the grace of God I pulled through. It's been a long hard battle getting over that but I'm certainly feeling much better. In June 2009 I have to have my right kidney removed which was a bit of a blow. However, I seem to have got over that fairly well and here we are now, 2010.

When I've got something else to say, you'll be the first to hear about it